


culprits

by adreamaloud, daneorange (adreamaloud)



Category: Orange is the New Black
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 10:16:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adreamaloud/pseuds/adreamaloud, https://archiveofourown.org/users/adreamaloud/pseuds/daneorange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>vause isn't in love with her, of course; nicky has none of these illusions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	culprits

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers through episode 13.

 

When shit hits the fan, Nicky is in Alex's bed, looking at Chapman's bloody hands. 

"Chapman." She doesn't want to call it panic, so she keeps it out of her tone, but Chapman grips at the edge of the divider too tightly her knuckles go even whiter. Blood smears right under her fingers, staining the concrete.

For all the sick stuff she's seen in this place, what surprises Nicky the most is how Chapman looks the _most fucked_ of them all. "I didn't know where else to go," she says, shifting her eyes. "Alex wasn't--I was looking for her--"

Nicky sits up and shrugs. "Must be nice to be someone people always look for," she says, fixing her shirt. It's out unintentionally bitter, and Chapman almost recoils but doesn't. _Damn it, Piper. What have you done this time?_

"I think I killed someone."

Alex stirs behind her and Nicky heaves a sigh. _Should have been more detailed about this Christmas wish,_ she thinks _. Maybe should have added, 'uninterrupted by ex-girlfriends who may have probably just murdered someone.'_

"Shit, Pipes." Alex is awake, and Nicky pushes herself out her bed and onto the empty bunk across, to which Alex reacts with a soft _, Nicky_ , chasing after her with an outstretched hand.

Which Nicky shrugs off, casually. "Hey," she says, tilting her head toward Chapman. "I think we got to haul her into the shower."

Alex sits up slowly, eyeing Nicky all the while, brow arched. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"It was Pennsatucky," Chapman cuts in, and the tightness in her voice pulls Nicky to her feet. "She came after me, I went out for some air, the Christmas presentation was too much, and fucking _Healey_ \--"

"Oh fuck this," Nicky says, grabbing at Chapman's shirt and dragging her toward the showers. "Let's get you cleaned up, Blondie."

*

As expected, Chapman starts crying the minute she comes under the spray. Nicky helps her out of her clothes; without them, she looks even smaller -- just this bag of skin and bones shivering under the water. She is cold everywhere, except her bloodied fists, where she is still warm. Nicky rubs at them with her thumbs, the gesture more delicate than she'd intended.

"S'alright Chapman," she says, her clothes drenched. And if this isn't the strangest thing that's happened to her all these years.

This is how Alex walks in on them, towels in her hands.

"I could use some help," she says, and Alex smirks weakly at her before lowering the towels on the sink.

"Let me," Alex says, extending a hand and pulling Nicky out. Nicky isn't into these small gestures, not at all; but then again, with women like Alex everything is _just magnified_ , and for a second there, Nicky feels something warm sweep through her and--

And then _gone_ , just like that; just as Alex lifts her shirt over her head before entering the spray with Chapman, who turns to Alex with that practiced ease – the gesture is so familiar that Nicky has to look away.

"I'll stand guard," she says instead, picking one of Alex's towels off the sink on the way out.

*

When Alex ushers Chapman out of the stalls, it isn't even ten minutes later. Like Chapman, Alex’s hair is wet, and their faces are flushed like they’ve been crying. When she looks at Chapman’s knuckles, they’re too clean, like they’ve been rubbed raw.

“What do we do now?” Nicky asks, handing them their towels.

“We keep our heads down,” Alex says, patting Chapman dry.

Chapman says nothing.

*

Everything goes undiscussed through the holidays – even Pennsatucky. Nicky hears about it from Red, who isn’t talking to anyone else anyway. The official story goes: Nobody knows. Pennsatucky was found alone, and she isn’t in any condition to talk -- perhaps she won’t be for a very long time.

“She’ll probably go straight to SHU from the hospital,” Nicky tells Alex. “They found a screw driver on her.”

Alex barely nods and focuses on her book instead. Since sending Chapman away that night, Nicky thinks Alex and Piper haven’t even _looked_ at each other at all. Alex adjusts her glasses before turning a page. “That sucks,” she says after a while.

“I haven’t seen Chapman at all these days,” Nicky begins.

Alex sighs, turning another page. “We’re not talking about Piper.”

Nicky has to laugh. Sure, they’re not talking about her, but _everything_ about this has Piper written all over. All anyone has to do is _look_.

“You’re so horrible at this,” she says, nudging Alex’s knee.

Alex pushes her glasses up and puts her book down, squinting at Nicky, her scowl gently breaking into a smile. “Fuck you,” she says, grinning.

Nicky finds it all too endearing, she almost kisses her.

*

Nicky likes to say she’s never done kisses, the same way Alex says she’s never done drugs -- something Nicky doesn’t believe entirely, not really, because on days when they end up fucking, it is Alex who comes to her first, like an addict seeking her fix.

_Nothing wrong with that,_ was what she thought, that first time Alex pulled her in closer. _We got to find ways to get through the days._ Some nights when she closes her eyes, she can still see Alex smiling at her, eyes narrowed and naughty.

The thing about Alex is that she is surprisingly tender in places, right where Nicky least expects, and all of it just fucking _throws_ her. She remembers seeing Alex for the first time at the cafeteria and thinking, _Well, there’s the girl you don’t mess with at the playground,_ and now here they are, sitting across each other behind the altar, sharing a round of post-sex giggles.

“How did we get here, Vause?”

And Alex fucking _preens_ for her, tucking her hair behind her ear and fixing her glasses in that self-conscious manner that Nicky finds ridiculously attractive. “ _Well_. I imported drugs.”

“Shut up,” Nicky laughs, throwing her head back. Hot damn, Vause does this making-her-laugh thing really well, and it’s just – well. _Oh, you fucker,_ she thinks, tracing the edge of Alex’s face with her eyes. _It doesn’t have to mean anything, does it?_ “Don’t you have laundry to do?”

Alex shrugs. “I got a few minutes,” she says, smiling.

“A few minutes,” Nicky repeats, crawling slowly back to Alex’s side. There’s a tell-tale inhale, and when Nicky settles in closer, she finds that Alex is still warm.

_It doesn’t have to mean anything,_ she thinks, sliding her hand back under the waistband of Alex’s pants.

*

Vause isn’t in love with her, of course; Nicky has none of these illusions.

*

Nicky chances upon Chapman on the last day of the year, near the queue to the telephones. The circles beneath Piper’s eyes betray just how much the past few days have taken from her; Nicky feels sick to the stomach, somewhat. Like she were part of some massive oppressive brigade.

Chapman smiles when she sees her, lifting her hand in a small wave. Her skin looks nearly translucent. “Hey,” she says. “Making a phone call?”

Nicky shrugs. “Not really. Just sort of passing by,” she says. Truth be told, she’d been looking for Chapman, and she doesn’t really know why. “You? Calling Larry?”

Chapman’s smile grows tighter, her lips pressed together thinly. “Well, maybe this time around he’d pick up,” she says. “For the sake of New Year’s. Maybe.”

“Maybe,” says Nicky. When she lowers her eyes, they land on Chapman’s knuckles, still looking tender. “How’s your hand?”

Chapman touches her right knuckles gingerly with the pads of her fingers. “Better,” she says, making a small fist tentatively before fanning her fingers out and giving them a little shake. “I never got to thank you properly for that night.”

Nicky looks around warily. “We do what we got to,” she just says. “Keep having your head down, kid.” Chapman sighs and Nicky gives her a brief pat on the shoulder before moving away.

*

Later, when she meets Alex at the library, she greets her with, “Chapman looks like shit.”

“Excuse me?” Alex is reading something about running again; Nicky wonders if it all means something.

“I don’t think she and Larry are anywhere near getting _married_.”

“Nicky,” says Alex, trying to keep her voice down and calm. She puts her book away and clasps her hands before her on the table. “What the _fuck_ are you talking about?”

“I’m just saying – she _refused_ visitors on Christmas, he wouldn’t even pick up the phone on New Year’s Eve – why the _fuck_ are you so mad at her?”

Nicky regrets saying it out loud of course, and the hurt look on Alex’s face afterwards skewers Nicky’s insides so thoroughly.

“I thought you _knew_ ,” Alex just says before walking out.

*

Nicky finds Alex in the chapel, sitting up front. It’s unfamiliar territory – Alex has always been so _agreeable_ , and Nicky’s not into apologies at all.

And yet, here she is. Alex is good at making her do things she _doesn’t_ do. “I’m sorry,” Nicky begins. “I didn’t mean—”

“Listen,” Alex interrupts. She doesn’t look at her; she’s got her eyes fixed on a space beyond the empty altar table, and Nicky feels a little guilty, remembering Morello. “You want to know why I’m mad at her? I’m mad at her because -- because she made a choice, and that choice wasn’t me.”

Nicky slides into the seat next to Alex slowly, careful not to slide in too close to touch. Alex stays still, heaving a long sigh. “You don’t have to tell me anything,” Nicky says.

Alex shakes her head, continuing with a softer voice: “And—and _I_ wanted to make a choice, too. You know?” Alex takes off her glasses and turns to face Nicky finally, her face plain and _unguarded._ Nicky knows how this is code for _I’m vulnerable;_ chances are, Alex doesn’t even know she’s sending this message, and that Nicky can actually decode it. “I just wish – god, I wish she’d just _let me._ ”

Nicky remembers asking, _How blind are you?_ and finds herself absently stroking Alex’s closed fist. 

“You don’t have to choose me to have me, Vause,” Nicky says. “You _always_ got me. No matter what.” And then, off the surprise on Alex’s face: “I thought you _knew_.”

*

There’s a small get-together at Big Boo’s on New Year’s Day, and Chapman comes around with a smuggled bottle of white. “Don’t ask,” she says, rolling her eyes at Nicky. 

“Thanks, Chapman,” Nicky replies, grinning right back. She’s sitting beside Alex, who has an arm draped lazily around her shoulder. It’s been an easy afternoon, with Big Boo leading the barrage of old New Year’s stories and everybody else pitching in – even good old Norma, who, in the absence of Red, seems to have found a voice.

_Got to find ways to get through the days,_ Nicky thinks idly, as Alex slides her hand into hers – it’s a mild surprise, and Nicky would be lying if she said it didn’t cross her mind at all, that Alex could be doing this for Chapman’s sake. Nicky gives Alex’s hand a small squeeze before moving away to retrieve Chapman’s bottle of wine on the floor and taking a swift swig from it. When she looks Chapman’s way, Nicky catches her looking before shifting her gaze; Nicky wonders what else she’s seen.

 It’s not that Nicky wants to hide it; it’s just that she isn’t sure how this is supposed to play out. _Why couldn’t we all just get along?_ she wants to ask. _Why couldn’t this just stop being so hard?_

_Yeah right, Nichols._ An ill-timed laugh starts bubbling in her throat, and she almost spits the wine out on Boo’s sheets.

“You all right?” Alex asks.

Nicky wipes at her mouth with the back of her wine-holding hand. “I’m fine.” When she looks at Alex, Alex is looking at Piper – _there’s something so young about this Alex here_ , Nicky just thinks, and she makes such a sight that Nicky feels sad, but for entirely different reasons.

*

That night, she doesn’t see Alex, nor does she hear her come to bed. Nicky thinks she knows, and _shit, this isn’t supposed to feel this way,_ but it does.

*

The next time she sees Alex, she’s in the library, hiding out in the stacks. “You a ninja, or something?” Nicky tries a smile, carefully placing herself a considerable distance across, leaning against the opposite shelf.

“Not a very good one, seeing you’ve _caught_ me,” Alex says, smiling back, her thumb marking the page she’s stuck on. There’s a glow about her that Nicky’s sure she _knows_ from somewhere. _None of my business,_ she thinks, brushing the thought out of her head.

“You better work on not getting caught then,” she says instead. And then, ultimately unable to resist: “So. Chapman.”

“ _Nicky_.” Alex blushes so hard when she says it, and Nicky has to laugh out loud.

“ _Jesus_ , the two of you.” Something twitches in Nicky’s chest as she says it, and all she can think about is how the scar got there first _._

*

Sometimes, Nicky catches them in the middle of all these tender moments. They’re oftentimes unusually small gestures – things so miniscule for people like _Alex_ , to begin with, but Nicky sees them anyway: Alex’s hand on the small of Piper’s back at the cafeteria. Piper handing Alex the tube of toothpaste in the showers.

For all the things she’s seen in this place, what _throws_ Nicky the most is how the smallest, most inconsequential things are the ones that get to her the hardest. One time, it’s Piper wiping Alex’s glasses. Then it’s Alex slipping Piper a random book during idle hours.

It isn’t even like these were things she _wanted_ , in the first place; some girls are made for this sort of _loving_ , and Nicky just isn’t into that, or so she tells herself. But there’s _something_ all right – and Nicky can’t quite put her finger on it. Or so she tells herself.

“You do know you’re going in circles, hmm?” she tells Alex once. They’re sitting side-by-side on Nicky’s bed, listening to her radio. Alex only shrugs, looking down. “Whatever happened to your plans of _escape_ , Vause?” she says, nudging Alex by the shoulder.

Alex laughs softly at that; this low, rumbling sound. “Ah, and we had such grand plans,” she says, looking at Nicky with that glint in her eye that started it all.

_Oh, you fucker,_ Nicky thinks. _Here’s to not looking at you that way ever again_. “And so they were,” she just says, leaning her head back against the wall and closing her eyes. #


End file.
